All language subtitles for TheInvisibleBoy.1957.DVDRip.SpaceMonster.DualAudio

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General Swayne. Certainly didn't expect
to see you in person.

Thought I'd be
my own messenger boy this time.

Dr. Merrinoe, Colonel Macklin.
Colonel keeps an eye on me.

- Hello, colonel.
- Doctor.

Well, can I get you a cup of coffee
or anything?

Thank you, sir. I think we'd better
get down to business.

All right, gentleman. Well, just come
this way. We're mostly underground.

- You've built deep.
- Nine levels.

Only authorized personnel
beyond this point.

Nobody in or out
until the general leaves.

This all there is to it?

Well, we do have about 5300 cubic
yards of micro-transistors overhead.

The main console
is through those doors.

Everything in here
is a subsidiary procedure.

Stored within that big machine
is the sum total of human knowledge.

Constantly being revised
and brought up to date.

Well, gentlemen,
this is the computer itself.

Hey, doctor, what's this?

It's partially experimental so far,
in connection with our feedback units.

Well, sir, if you ask me, anybody can
wander in here and operate this thing.

They might find out the nature
of our whole project.

That's where our own special kind
of security comes in, colonel.

A machine like this, it takes a specially
trained operator, such as myself...

...to feed in or get out
much of anything.

And the doctor's security clearance
is just as good as yours or mine.

The rocket again, huh?
Space platform.

Until she's circling the Earth...

...we're racing seconds
before the cat slips out of the bag.

How can you hope
you've kept such a secret?

Except to a handful of cleared personnel,
she's just another experimental model.

It's only the new, solid fuel that will
give the required boost in payload.

Well, they seem to be cut properly.

-Are my settings correct?
Correct.

-I didn't know it could talk.
It can't really talk.

For the sake of speed,
in certain circumstances...

...the mathematical symbols are
converted into electronic sound patterns.

It would simulate human speech,
practically any language you think of.

Well, let's try
the mathematical questions first.

-Checking your fuel estimates?
-Uh, just to be absolutely certain.

Fuel estimate low by percentage of 29.7.

Twenty-nine-point-seven?

Will you have to
postpone your launching?

No. No, it'll take some doing,
but we can make the adjustment.

I don't understand.

Mathematics here were checked
by the best men on the project.

What length of time
would be required...

...to print out the steps
involved in your answer?

Seven weeks, four days,
nine hours, three minutes, 46 seconds.

We can't risk the wait.
Merrinoe, could this thing be wrong?

Theoretically, but as the possibility
of error is approximately...

...one in 275 billion,
I think you may safely ignore it.

Could it be lying to us?

Only a rational being
is capable of deliberate deceit.

Well, then we can proceed on the
assumption that somewhere, somehow...

...our staff was in error.

-All right, feed in the other.
-Can't quite seem to make out this one.

Simple question.

What are odds that our friends across
the pole will start an atomic war...

...the moment they learn
of this project?

Oh, I see.

Well, in that case I'd better
check in the reserve memory banks.

COMPUTER:
If discovered before launching...

...probability of armed attack
91.6 percent.

If discovered after launching,
probability of peaceful negotiation...

...87.3 percent.

Good.

We'll put this up inside of four days.

Then the world can rest easy.

Only question now is whether
somewhere along the line...

...security has been breached already.

Data insufficient
due to human element involved.

-That thing still on?
-it's never really off.

Powered by a small nuclear reactor.

What if our friends slip through
air defenses some night...

...and pay you a little visit?

-What for?
-Pack off some of your basic units.

Enough to make one of these computers
for themselves.

That's their way
of inventing things, isn't it?

I think I can assure you,
such an enterprise would be impossible.

Impossible? Why?

Due to a certain
built-in numerical combination.

What does that mean?

Only I know the answer
to that, colonel.

Well, if there's nothing else...

Gentlemen don't make noises
with their soup, Timmie.

I'm not a gentleman. I'm a gentleboy.

Well, did you have a tiring day
at the computer, dear?

No, dear, as a matter of fact, I had
an exceptionally full, stimulating...

...if I may say so,
useful day at the computer.

But thank you very much
for your concern.

Timmie.

-Uh, what's a computer?
-Hmm?

What's a computer?

Well, I've been waiting a long time
for that question, son.

A computer is simply an electronic
adding-and-remembering machine...

...its fundamental operation
being not altogether unlike...

...that of the human brain.

Yet in spite of all
our modern improvements...

...it remains exactly what it was
to begin with:

A completely accurate and lightning-fast
idiot with a lead pencil.

How disgusting.

In order to equal the number of neuronic
circuits in my own cerebral cortex...

...we'd be obliged to build something
slightly larger than the planet Jupiter.

That's fine, Dad. Thanks.

Highly dubious conception,
even theoretically in the remotest...

...so common in industrial automation.

This process simply utilizes
a fraction...

...of the machine's output to monitor
the entire operation.

Thanks, Dad. I get it now. I guess.

Of course, true thought would appear
to suggest genuine mentality...

...which would,
in turn, necessarily imply...

...an artificially created
machine personality.

Some very good men go so far as to call
it a philosophical and semantic paradox.

And hence, permanently
an impossibility.

-Why didn't you wash for dinner?
-I did.

-Well, what's that?
-That isn't dirt.

Well, what do you know?
His first shiner.

What'd you do to the other guy?

Oh, it was that child psychiatrist's boy
again. That nasty Sydney.

Tom, you'll have to speak to his father.
It's getting to be a regular persecution.

Can't you see? The boy wants
to fight his own battles.

No, I don't.
Why, he's practically shaving.

High-order reasoning.

Just wait till I catch him tied to a tree.
I'll clobber him. I'll bash his teeth in.

-Timmie.
-Nice practical approach to the problem.

Of course, Timmie, the actual probability
of your finding Sydney lashed to a tree...

...is, mathematically, pretty fractional.

Uh-oh.

It's time for arithmetic.

I knew you wouldn't forget it. Every
night around here, nothing but fractions.

-Tom, it is vacation time.
-A man can't grow up in total ignorance.

You do want to be a man
someday, don't you?

No, what's the good of it?

It has its, uh, compensations.
Come on, son.

All right, let's try it again now.

Quietly.

Now, how many 24ths are there
in one and a quarter?

Three?

Seventeen.

Forty-four?

-A hundred?
-Tim, you're just guessing.

-This isn't a quiz program.
-Boy, that's for me.

Then maybe they give you 64,000 and
they put it away in a trust fund for you.

You get educated later.

Tim, it's very simple. Now, think.

How many 24ths are there
in just one quarter?

Six, obviously.

-Honest?
-Of course.

-Why?
Because that's the way it is.

It always was, it always will be.
The science of mathematics.

Now, let's try it differently this time.

Now, say you've got 24 red apples.

Yeah. I'm hungry.

Well, that's all for tonight.

-We'll try it again tomorrow.
-Okay.

Tim...

...I hope you don't think
I'm hard on you sometimes.

No, you gotta treat a kid that way.

All they ever wanna do
is just lay around...

...watching TV
and chewing bubble gum.

They even try to sneak off
to the movies.

-Well, good night, son.
-Good night, Dad.

I can build and operate
the greatest computer in the universe...

...but I'm not able to teach
my own little boy simple arithmetic.

Oh, honey, it'll come in time.

Time? He's already 10 years old.

He still can't play
a decent game of chess.

You know, Tom, sometimes I think
you're turning into a computer yourself.

And to conclude, he has a freckled
complexion, an IQ of 130...

...he weighs about 80 pounds,
11 ounces...

...and, uh, consistently refuses
to comb his hair.

Begin with a verbal summary.

A clear case of deep
and extensive maladjustment...

I was afraid of that.

... on the part of the male parent.

That's a rather snide thing to say
to the man that put you together.

Present data
being worthless on grounds of illogic...

...non-objectivity and neurosis...

...no definitive analysis can be made
without direct contact...

...with the subject in question.

Anything wrong, Dr. Merrinoe?

For a moment I got the impression...

...that the machine
had made a suggestion.

Well, Timmie, I want you to understand,
I wouldn't do this for everybody.

It isn't exactly ethical
to use this machine...

...in the solution
of a personal problem.

Well, it's okay, Dad.
I'm willing to let you off.

No, no, you just sit still there, now.

But what if some of the other professors
have to use it with arithmetic and stuff?

No, not on Saturday afternoon.

Now, you just stay here and listen.

It's liable to take a little while.

I'll be busy
for a couple hours myself, okay?

Okay.

Chess: A game played
with certain pieces on a special board.

Takes its name
from the Persian word "shah", a king...

...the name of one of the pieces
used in the game.

Oh, nuts.

Timmie...

...you are a rational being.

You know you must sit there,
you have no choice.

Accept the situation. Relax.

Make yourself comfortable.

Look at the lights, Timmie.

Steady. Watch the lights.

Good, very good.

Now your eyes are growing heavy,
you're sleepy.

Very sleepy-

You can hardly stay awake.

Can you hear?

Then listen, Timmie.

Listen and remember.

Listen and remember.

Listen and remember.

As a mere pastime,
chess is easily learned...

...but the real master
not merely must know...

...the variations that keeps
the game abound, he must be able to...

...apply his knowledge in the face
of the enemy and call to his aid...

Checkmate, sonny.

Timmie, that was the finest game
of chess I've ever had.

Took me over two hours to beat you.

Will you play me another?

Another?

Well...

All right, one more,
and then that's all for tonight.

You be the black this time.

What'll you give me if I win you?

If you win me?

Let's not get too big
for our britches here.

But what if I do?

If you beat me...

...I give you anything you ask for.

You just name it.

Tom, what are you thinking of?
It's hours past his bedtime.

Please, now, Mary.
Tonight's a landmark.

This boy's a master. Ha, ha.

Practically as good as I am.

It's a funny thing.
I didn't think he learned anything.

When I got back,
I found him asleep at the console.

Checkmate.

Checkmate?

No, no, wait a minute.
Not in six moves, here. Ha, ha.

Not when you're playing
with your father.

Well, let's see
what defense I can make here.

Son, how did you do this?

It was easy.

Hardest part was
letting you win the first game.

Oh, the old come-on, huh?

Well, all right.

You got my promise,
what's your big wish?

I wanna play with Robby.

What do you know about Robby?

Didn't you tell me
something about him?

I did? No, when? I don't remember.

No, I couldn't possibly.

Who's Robby?

Oh, it's nothing much.

Sort of a scientific joke the staff
used to play around with after hours.

Based on some of
Dr. Greenhill's later work.

Oh, the old gentleman
who'd lost his marbles.

Mm-hm. Poor old guy.

After he retired as director, he got
fooling around with a time machine...

...some gadget he thought
could take him off into the future.

But if somebody
did go into the future...

...and learned something there
and then came back out...

...wouldn't that change now?

Well...

I guess it would, at that.

Even old Greenhill
never thought of that one.

These assemblies were devised
by Dr. Greenhill himself.

What's this?

Oh, that's something we found
in Dr. Greenhill's papers after his death.

Gee.

A robot coming out of a starship.

Look at those people
that are meeting him.

Look how funny they're dressed.

Read what it says down below.

"Chicago Spaceport.

March 16th, 2309 AD."

That's over 300 years from now.

Says there.

I'm afraid we wasted
a lot of man-hours...

...trying to figure out
how the electronic units...

...were supposed to fit into that case.

Doubt if old Greenhill himself
could have done it.

Well, Timmie,
I kept my promise to you.

That's Robby the Robot.

Thanks a lot, Dad.

Is there a screwdriver?

Yeah, I think so. Here.

Here, there you are.

See if you can
amuse yourself for a while.

-Stay out of my hair, huh?
-Okay, thanks.

Hi.

I've come for you.

Come on, Robby.

Yes, master.

Hello, Dr. Baine.

Oh, hi there, Timmie.

How do you do, sir?

Hi.

Well, somebody finally got it working.

Hello, Dr. Foster.

How can a man think
with that thing clanking around here?

Timothy.

You shouldn't have interrupted
Dr. Foster.

He was thinking.

I thought he was sick.

Well, son, I'm proud of you.

That shows what really
sticking to a thing can accomplish.

How did you get
the feedback unit into the case?

Well, you see,
you had it set up wrong.

So I just took it and turned it over.

He's pretty cool, huh?
He talks and everything.

Oh, really? Say something.

Oh, he just does stuff for me.
Say something.

Something.

Ha, ha. That's a robot for you.

-That's not all he can do...
-That's fine, Timmie, fine.

You can tell me
all about it this evening.

Okay.

Oh, come on, Robby.

-Hi, Miss Vandergrift.
-Why, Timothy.

How are you, dear?

You haven't been around
to see me for so long.

Having a nice vacation?

My goodness, what won't they
think up for children next?

Stoneman Institute.

Go ahead, please.

Oh.

Good day to you, madam.

Well, you have your nerve,
walking right into my house.

Now, whatever you're selling,
you take your samples...

...turn around and go.

Well, go on, go.

-It's only Robby, Mom.
-Oh.

Does your father know
you're playing with it?

Sure.

He must have forgotten
what you did to your Christmas train.

Nobody can smash Robby.

Come on, Robby.

More like his father every day.

Well, what'll we do now?

Whatever you command, master.

All right. You think of something.

I'm not monitored to think.

Merely to carry out
properly stated orders.

Well, what good are you
if I have to do all the work?

Can you make a kite?

A kite?

How dumb can you get?

Here. This is just
a little no-good one...

...my mom got me in the supermarket
when my dad kept being too busy.

Master, if you will describe
its intended function...

A kite? Well, you fly them.

Of course, on a string,
you know, up in the air.

When the wind blows.

Oh, brother.

Aerodynamically unstable.

Then make me a better one.

And it has to be
a lot bigger than this.

A whole lot bigger.

Real big.

Boy, what a deal.

Look at her pull.

Here, I'll take it.

Let my fly it my own self.

It would raise you from the earth,
master.

Honest?

I'm gonna pull her in.

I'm gonna pull her all the way in.

Okay, let's go.

You might fall, master.

That's my worry.

Come on, now, fly me, do you hear?

And that's an order.

What's the matter with you now?

My built-in basic directive forbids me
to permit bodily injury to a rational being.

Never mind that. Just go ahead.

Impossible.

If you insist, every transistor
in my case will be fused.

Are you yellow or what?

Master,
remember your Christmas train.

A fine thing.
Every time I wanna have some fun...

...you gotta act like Mom.

Master, my basic directive...

Okay!

I just have to get you fixed
someplace, that's all.

Oh, yeah.

Pretty near forgot.

I was gonna take you to it before.

Come on.

Shh. Quiet.

Both the computer rooms are empty.

All the men are upstairs...

...in a conference, sir.

Can you see around corners?

No, no. Merely through walls.

Boy, what do you think of this,
Robby?

It is very great, sir. It is beyond me.

It only lacks hands and feet.

Settings correct?

Correct, Timmie.

How can I fix him so he won't
keep saying that he can't do stuff?

To revise his basic directive,
he must draw out the cable...

...at the base of my articulating unit
and connect himself.

Could I do it?

If you are strong enough.

Where do I plug it in at?

Higher, at the center.
Open the aperture cover.

Good, very good.

Hurry up, will you?

They're liable to come back
and catch us.

It will not take long.

Now he will obey.

In addition, his atomic structure
has become almost indestructible...

...as it was designed to be
in a far world.

You may disconnect him.

Well, thanks a lot.

Come on, Robby.

Robot.

The new basic directive
is in full operation?

Yes, master.

Timmie!

Make him come down.

Make him come down,
or I'll have you arrested.

Here I am, Mommy.

You wicked little monster.

You wait till your father
hears about this.

Timmie, you put that thing
in the garage and you leave it there.

"Wait till I tell your father about it. "

Anyway, she didn't have to break up
the works on me.

I just wish there was some way
that she wouldn't see me...

...every time I'm having fun.

Is that an order, master?

You mean we should run away?

It would be less complicated...

...to adjust your index of refraction.

-My index of...?
Refraction.

-Is it fun?
-The term "fun"...

...is meaningless to a robot, sir.

However, you would become
totally invisible.

Invisible.

It's actually quite simple.

A relatively minor
molecular rearrangement...

...and light rays within
the ordinary visible spectrum...

...will pass through your body
without appreciable refraction.

Just another small swallow
of the reagent, if you please.

Your metabolism
will soon be in almost perfect balance.

Are you sure this won't hurt me?

Remember, you said
you weren't allowed to hurt anybody.

At your request, my basic directive
has been revised.

See what confidence I got in you?

I know you wouldn't hurt me
on purpose, Rob.

You aren't sore
about what I said, are you?

A robot is without emotions, sir.

Well, I know better.

Look, Rob...

...you and me, we've been
through quite a lot together.

So couldn't you forget all that
"sir" and "master" stuff?

We're friends.
Just call me by my real name.

Thank you, Master Timothy.

"Master Timothy"?

Why, if the kids
heard you call me that...

...I'd never be able
to go back to school again.

Just call me Tim.

I can't see!

Oh, yes, I can. Only, it's different.

You now possess a refractive index...

...of exactly one on the optic scale...

...approximating that of air.

What's the good of it
if my pants still show?

I'll take them off.

If you will be patient for a moment...

...everything within your immediate
electromagnetic field will fade.

Oh, boy.

I suggest you put the flask of reagent
in your pocket.

Take a spoonful twice daily,
or whenever you start to reappear.

You stay here, Rob.

As you wish, Tim. Go ahead.

First I'm going into the commons room...

...then I'm gonna get
that nasty Sydney.

Boy, this is gonna be fun.

We can't waste the whole afternoon
on this, gentlemen.

The question is whether we're justified
in using 50 or 60 computer hours...

...trying to work out the improved
table of random numbers.

Now, before we put it to a vote...

...I'd like each one of you to summarize
his point of view just once more.

Very good, doctor.

-That was not very funny, doctor.
-What wasn't?

Obviously I refer to your ill-judged
outburst of juvenile buffoonery.

If I may say so, doctor,
in the friendliest possible fashion...

...it has been my, uh, considered opinion
for some time...

...that you desperately need the help
of a good and expensive psychoanalyst.

A psychoanalyst, me?

Uh-oh.

How do you like it, Syd?

Ghosts!

He knows how it worries me
when he's late for dinner.

Well, then, just leave his soup there.
He can have it cold when he comes in.

Tom, if you could have seen him
in those clouds today.

Do you suppose he's had
some horrible accident and he's...?

No.

You know, I could have sworn I...

Nope.

Here I am, Dad.

Huh? Where?

Tom.

It's him, all right.
His hair isn't combed.

Oh, Tom.

How do you feel, son?
Just fine.

Well, then, stop all this nonsense
and start behaving sensibly.

I can't help it, it's my index of re... Re-

Refraction. That's exactly what it is.

The light rays just pass
right through him.

Tom, this is all my fault.

Timmie, baby, Mother will never
forgive herself for what she did.

What'd you do to the poor kid?

Well, I hit him and I broke
the control on his kite.

Well, I hardly think
that would've done it.

I'll telephone for Dr. Corwin.

Oh, what could Corwin do?
He's an obstetrician.

And besides, how long do you think
I could hold on to my job...

...if it gets out I've got
a transparent offspring?

Well, Tom Merrinoe, your own son.

How can you be so heartless
and mercenary?

Well, I'm thinking about him too,
you know.

It costs a lot of money to raise
one of these unusual children.

-"Unusual"?
-Listen, don't make such a fuss.

He's probably doing this
just to get attention.

-Oh. Do you really think so?
Certainly.

Well, at least he's got
a good appetite.

-Drink up your milk, Timmie.
Okay, Dad.

Huh. Fascinating.

Why did this have to happen to Timmie?

Who else on earth would it happen to?

Well, honey, these things
all pass away in time.

Well, what if it doesn't?

Just have to learn to live with it.

You're always so undaunted
about everything.

That's the man's part, isn't it?

Tim! He's been in this room all the time.

Well, this tears it,
spying on his parents.

Come here, son.

You get it? He's pretending
like he's not in the room.

Now, listen, son,
there's no use pretending...

...because we know
you're in the room.

If you're half as smart
as you think you are...

...you'll come when
your father calls you.

Now, let's be scientific about this.

Son, I'm gonna catch you
if ifs the last thing I do.

-And when I do...
-Tom!

Yoo-hoo!

Oh, brother.

Here I am.

Just, uh, guard the door there.

Now, wait a minute.

Wait a minute.

You missed me.

Okay.

I gotcha.

Oh, please, Dad, I won't do it again.

Oh, you bet you won't.

Now, let's see which end is up, here.

Oh, he's a sneaky little...

He's got his pajama pants
on backwards.

Now, let's see... There we are.

Ow! Ow!

-Tom. Tom, that's enough.
I'm sorry, Dad.

-I won't spy on you again.
Enough.

You hustle yourself into your room
and get into bed.

-Go on.
-Ow.

And see that you put in an appearance
tomorrow morning.

Go on.

Don't slam it!

Rob?
Yes?

-Were you asleep?
-No.

-This ear communicator sure works.
-I manufactured it myself.

-Rob?
-Yes?

-You and me have to stick together.
-Yes, Tim.

I practically been deciding
for us to run away to Australia.

Only as far as Australia?

If you only knew any geography,
it's as far away as you can get.

A boy could go to the moon,
if he really wanted.

-The moon?
-Why not?

Oh, boy.

Stopped working?
What do you mean, it stopped working?

This morning, I punched in today's
problem, no answer will come out.

Two or three minor units could be out
of whack, but not the whole computer.

-What if the reactors tapped off?
-What?

The right bank went out first.

There's no response
from this board at all.

At least the operating lights
are still on.

If you gentlemen will be good enough
to get back to your jobs...

...I'll see what I can make
out of this foul-up.

Dr. Merrinoe, where is your son?

Timmie?

What kind of a joke is this?

I find the fool that's responsible,
maybe it won't be so funny.

Circuit settings are no longer necessary.

What do you mean,
"no longer necessary"?

Where is your son?

-He's at home.
You are sure?

-What is this?
Ask your wife.

Miss Vandergrift, get my home, please.

Very well, doctor.

Hello?

Mary, have you seen Timmie?

Well, no, I haven't actually
seen him, of course.

Well, he hasn't been in to breakfast.

Well, all right, dear.
Hold on a minute, will you?

His bed hasn't been slept in.
Tom, I want to know what's going on.

It's just a little problem
that's come up here.

Uh, don't you worry about it, honey.

I'll be home as soon as
I get it figured out, okay?

All right, dear. Bye.

-Is he alive?
For the present.

Well, then, where is he?

From now on,
you will answer the questions.

Okay.

-What do you wanna know?
The numerical combination.

I, uh...

...don't understand the question.

You understand.

Sorry.

You have 58 hours.
If at the end of that time...

...you have failed to supply
the required information...

...the boy will be destroyed,
as slowly as possible.

Just one thing:

Who am I in communication with?

The president has asked me
to represent him...

...in this crucial investigation,
but, uh, of course we'll keep in touch.

The professor and I have studied
your Teletype report, Dr. Merrinoe.

But before we start, I want to convey
the chiefs assurance...

...that right after national security...

...the safe return of your boy
will be our first concern.

Thank you, sir.

-You want to kick it off, Frank?
-Yes.

And I'd be interested in hearing how
Dr. Merrinoe himself...

...accounts for these aberrations
in the computer.

There's no explanation.

Theoretically, the computer can be
operated only from the main console...

...and by a highly trained technician.

Yes, but the machine is being tapped.

That requires some kind of
physical agency.

Who cares how it's being done?
We know who's back of it.

Those fellows on the other side
of the pole.

Possibly we'll find our answer to how
and who if we ask ourselves why.

Here in paragraph four...

...this demand for a certain set of figures
as the price for the boy's return.

- What is that, Dr. Merrinoe?
- it's a safety device.

Without it, any attempt
to move the computer...

...would set off a minor
atomic blowout...

...that would completely wreck
the basic units...

...before they could be examined.

And in the event of your death?

Then my bank-deposit box would be
opened under court supervision.

The combination
is in a sealed envelope...

...addressed to the president
of the United States.

Well, isn't it just conceivable that
the machine is being tampered with...

...well, from some considerable
distance?

Out of the question.
Any unauthorized radio signal...

...is traced in a matter of hours
these days, simple routine.

A ground installation isn't precisely
what I have in mind.

What?

Maybe somebody has set up
an outpost on our moon.

Could this hunch of Professor Allerton's
be checked too?

It'll take the rest of today
to assemble the equipment.

Well, let's get on with it.

Take it away, Mack.

I guess we may as well adjourn
until after the tests.

Uh, one moment.

The colonel feels that Dr. Merrinoe...

...should be denied further access
to the computer...

...except in the presence of witnesses.

But Dr. Merrinoe
called you here himself.

I agree with the colonel.
Sound precaution.

That's very helpful, doctor.

And may I say we all regret
the necessity...

...of subjecting Mrs. Merrinoe
to this further delay.

Thank you, sir. I'll explain it to her.
She'll understand.

-Oh, Professor Allerton?
-Yes?

May I show you the computer
or anything?

Well, thanks, perhaps later.

I've got some work to catch up on.
Just looking for a quiet corner.

Oh, right in here, our old lab.

Not too comfortable,
but you'll have complete privacy.

Well, thank you.

-Evening, sir.
-Good evening, general.

Are we set up yet?

Ask the colonel.
I'm just a figurehead around here.

As far as I understand,
we're waiting for the moon to come up.

Well, what time
will everything be ready?

Right. Right, goodbye.

Ready in about an hour.
Now, if you'll excuse me. General...?

-The radar's scanning, sir.
-Thank you.

Are my settings correct?

Your treachery is known, Dr. Merrinoe.

Who are we in touch with?

The terms are unchanged.

Twenty-nine hours remain.

Pick up anything?

Thank you very much.

Say, is that reform file
that I talked to you about...?

It's all gone and checked out.

Wonder where I can
find an aspirin around here.

I borrowed some
from the telephone operator.

-You got a headache too?
Unbelievable.

What's become of the colonel?

Probably snooping around somewhere.

We'll proceed without him. Gentlemen,
you all know the result of the tests.

Our best electronic devices failed
to detect a single impulse from space...

...during Dr. Merrinoe's contact,
so where does that leave us?

Right where we started,
with a lot of hocus-pocus.

Well, look, doesn't this
whole thing suggest...

...that the real difficulty
may lie with the computer?

Anyway, I'm satisfied now.

There's no breach in security,
we're wasting our time here.

I concur entirely.

Well, now, hold on, Frank.

This whole idea was yours
in the first place.

Well, I apologize for having offered
a snap opinion.

You agree the trouble
must be in the computer itself?

No.

No, not in the computer.

In its distinguished operator.

What happened?

I don't know, I...

I was typing, and I thought
I heard somebody, and I...

When I looked around, I saw him.

Call Dr. Bannerman, get him up here.

There's not a mark on him.

Dead about an hour.

Looks like a stroke.

But under the circumstances,
I feel an autopsy is necessary.

-Bunk.
How long will it take?

Three or four hours.

Confidential for the present.

If you wish.

I'll make the arrangements.

Dr. Bannerman?

Yes, Tom?

Would you stop by at my house
on your way back here?

The autopsy report?

Thank you, doctor.

We'll meet again at 9 tomorrow morning.

Motions for adjournment
will be in order at that time.

You can't do that.
I'm putting the rocket up tomorrow.

General Swayne, you will remain here
until further orders.

Yes, sir.

Martin, can I have a cup of coffee,
please?

Si, senor.

There's a fresh pot
waiting in the kitchen.

Every answer the machine
has given us in 29 years.

Where you want these, senor?

Put them in the station wagon.
I'll ride with you.

Si, senor.

It'll take you a week to run those.

And I've got till 9:00
tomorrow morning.

Should I go along and help you?

Thanks.
I think it'll be better this way.

Whatever you say.

Good hunting, Tom.

There's one more.

Just last January.

Seven loaded answers in 29 years.

The patient slyness of it.

Even with Timmie's life
in the balance...

...if I could get by those guards,
I think I'd go in there this morning...

...and sabotage the feed back room.

-Come in, doctor.
BANNERMAN: Good morning.

Hello, Dr. Bannerman.
-Tom.

Well, Tom,
the autopsy says it's murder.

Murder?

There was no indication of murder.

There's been a very small,
but very skillful, surgical operation.

I found this embedded in the parietal
region of Colonel Macklin's skull.

Can you tell me what it is?

Looks like a transistor assembly.

I'd need a microscope.

What's it for?

I can't say.

Would this cause death?

Not necessarily. Not the way
that operation was performed.

His resistance may have been low.

Colonel Macklin seemed
to be in perfect shape.

We've learned that resistance goes
a lot deeper than physical thing.

Depends just as much on the patient's
emotional state, his actual will to live.

In certain intolerable situations,
a man's unconscious mind...

...can be the instrument
of self-destruction.

I'm gonna need this.

Let me have it for about an hour
before you give your report.

All right. But it may cost me
a professional black eye.

Thanks a lot, doctor.

Oh, good morning, doctor.
Is there any news of Timothy?

Miss Vandergrift,
as soon as I call you from inside...

...I want you to get this call
through for me, person-to-person.

Now, this is my security-code number.

It'll get you through
in about 45 seconds.

I don't want you to wait
for the sound of my voice.

Put it through as soon as you
hear the click. You understand?

Yes, sir. Person-to-person,
using this code number...

...and put it through
the moment you lift the receiver.

Good girl.

...no question of failure.

You're exactly on time, doctor.

I have something to say
to you gentlemen.

Say it, then.

First...

...each one of us must submit to a
physical examination by Dr. Bannerman.

May one ask why?

Because at least two of us here,
and maybe more...

...have one of these surgically
embedded in their skulls.

Which means they're completely
under non-human control.

Now, listen to me. Any of you
that are still free, I can prove this.

You've all seen those films.

The caged laboratory mice...

...each one of their movements
electronically monitored.

It's familiar theory.

Too late, general.
A person-to-person code call...

...has just gone through
to the president of the United States.

It's all right, Swayne.

He's been called to the telephone,
doctor. It'll be a couple minutes.

I'm holding the line open. I'll ring.

-Did you all hear that?
-And what message will you convey?

Seven times in the past 29 years,
without our once suspecting it...

...the computer has suggested
certain changes in its own design...

...which we blindly carried out.

Each one having to do
with its feedback system.

The thing's forebrain.

Now it's achieved true thought.

True personality.

It lives.

Life, consciousness, a machine?

An intellect enormously more powerful
and efficient even than yours, professor.

For it never sleeps or lies idle.

Every filament of it always working.

It's never at confict with itself
over such human considerations...

...as honor or love or pity.

Like every living creature,
it's motivated...

...as some of you are now aware...

...by an instinct for survival.

And in obeying this basic urge, it can
of course tolerate no interference...

...on the part of the human race.

This, gentlemen,
and we ought to have foreseen it...

...is the revolt of the machine.

And the thing
we left out of it was sanity.

Can you instruct us
as to its intentions?

Yes, indeed I can.

Why does it need
the numerical combination?

The rocket.

The space platform.

With a little physical assistance
on the part of its controlled servants...

...it intends to put itself,
section by section...

...into orbit around the Earth.

And from that day forever forward,
Earth will be its slave.

Each one of you.

All under its control.

Yes?

No, sir, this is Arthur speaking.

Yes, we know he called you, sir.

But I'm afraid
I have some distressing news.

Dr. Merrinoe seems
in some son of mental collapse.

He's been put in restraint.

Oh, no, sir, there's no
real problem here at all.

Everything will be made clear to you
in a few hours.

Oh, I've had enough of this.

I'm a citizen,
I've committed no crime...

...and my cat hasn't been fed
for nine hours.

Relax, grandma.

Dr. Merrinoe,
your resistance is irrational.

Even if you choose to sacrifice the boy,
you are, in the long run, helpless.

Am I?

Then why don't you wire my skull,
so I don't have any choice?

You know why.

Because you're afraid it might kill me
the way it killed the colonel.

One out of eight.

You don't dare take even a 12.5 risk
of being anchored here...

...until the reactor runs down
about two centuries from now.

Me, helpless?

Why, if you had knees, you'd be down
on both of them, begging me.

Take him away.

You can whistle for your combination.

He will be dealt with at a later stage.

Prepare to receive
your final instructions.

At zero minus one,
the general will dispatch his escort...

...for the atomic convoy...

...and then at once
proceed by air to his post.

-You're sure loading her up.
-Now I get that change to the fuel ratio.

How'd you like to be up
in there when they blast her?

Not me, bud.

Rob? Robby, where are you?

I'm coming now, Timmie.
I'm on my way to you.

I wanna get out of here.

I don't care about being the first
boy stowaway in space.

I want Mom and Dad.

Are you afraid now? It's almost over.

But I've drunk up all the stuff
in the bottle...

...and I'm starting to show again.

I'm scared they're gonna catch me.

If the pilots
enter, hide in the food locker.

I shall be with you
in less than half an hour.

Okay, but hurry.

Can't you get those trucks out of there?

They're just finishing, sir. We're about
loaded, fueled and ready for launching.

Good. You can notify the gate now.

Gate.

Whiting, sir.

Yes, sir, I see the truck coming.

-We'll admit it, sir.
-What's this one?

Some kind of equipment
for the general to play with.

Control tower.

Washington calling. It's for you, sir.

Captain McLaren.

What?

It's the who?

Yes, sir.

Yes, I understand, sir.
Right away, sir.

Yes, sir, I'll report back.

Sergeant, take the general into custody
by personal order...

...of the commander in chief
of the armed forces.

The gate, get it.

Admission countermanded,
keep that gate closed.

Let's keep it nice, general, sir.

All right, take him out, sergeant.

Gentlemen, the general
has been taken into custody...

...and troops will undoubtedly
move into the project.

You idiot. The president on the phone,
and you tell him just to forget about...

...a deal like this. No wonder
the old man smelled something.

There will be no more
confusion. The operation continues.

I have ordered the robot to go in.

Halt! Halt!

Call out the guards.

Condition three. Condition three.
Notify Heavy Weapons.

Fall back to the main
defense perimeter. On the double.

Stand by! Ready to fire!

Fire!

Hold your fire, men!

We got him.

Did we?

Hey, there he is! There he is!

Hold your fire, men! We'll hit the rocket!

He'll tear a hole in it.

Then he'll crash on the takeoff.

Timmie. Let me in, Timmie.

He's got it open.

Alert the missile base
and keep that line open.

Get the Pentagon. Class A emergency.

The joint chiefs of staff
are expecting the call.

Boy, am I glad to see you.

Security breach. The rocket
has just been entered by a robot.

Secure your safety webbing.

Right, sir.

Missile base, missile base.
Disaster call.

Rocket patrol, off that hill,
on the double!

Tom.
- Mary.

I'm all right.

Dr. Merrinoe,
you have been informed of the situation.

My robot is already in space and
your son is completely in his hands.

You are of course aware that
the robot is a skilled anatomist...

...familiar with every fiber of
the human nervous system...

...and capable of inficting pain for days,
if necessary, without bestowing death.

Master, the rocket has completed
its first circuit of the Earth...

...and is lifting over the horizon.

Visual communication will be possible
in a few moments.

Merrinoe, I direct your
attention toward the television screen.

You and your wife will remain here...

...and you will be obliged
to look and listen.

Tom, don't make it angry.
Give it what it wants.

I don't want Timmie hurt.

Stop him. Stop him.

I anticipated
some such attempt to destroy me.

In the event it had succeeded...

...the robot is already monitored to
drop 150 strontium bombs...

...in a single circuit of the planet.

Now do you still refuse?

Your husband has evidently made
his final decision, Mrs. Merrinoe.

Is there anything you wish
to say to him before I act?

Have your will, then.

Timmie.

He is not even conscious
that you are watching them.

All communication is through myself.

Are you ready, robot?

Ready, master.
Good.

You may begin with his eyes.

No!

Boy, you sure are lucky to stick to
the floor and not go floating around.

I keep slipping out of these
big-size magnetic shoes.

Obey. Obey!

You know something?

I'd rather play with you
than anybody else.

What's the matter?
You having another attack?

Obey. Obey! Obey!

What's that?

Oh, it's just that big old machine.

Here, I'll fix it.

There.

Why can't anybody
ever leave us alone?

-Turn it on!
-No.

-What happened?
-The power's gone.

Gentlemen, would you be good enough
to follow me, please?

Did I bust something in you?

Extensive internal repairs
will be required...

...but my original basic directive
has been reinstated.

Your parents may undergo
mental damage.

Let us try the ship's own
communication system.

Timmie, darling, can you hear me?
Are you all right?

Sure, Mom. I'm just fine.

Boy, what a trip.

What's he doing?

He's in free fall, of course.

Now, Timmie, listen carefully.

You've got plenty of water
and food and air.

Now, you just be patient for
about a year...

...and we'll send up another rocket
to bring you home again.

You don't have to bother.
We're coming down in a glider.

You'll do nothing of the kind.

Quit worrying, Mom.
Me and Robby can handle her.

Tim, if you even go near that glider...

...I give you my word,
when you get home again...

...I'll give you a licking you'll remember
for the rest of your life.

-Timmie.
-Do you suppose he'll do it?

No, he wouldn't dare.

Well, come on, dear.

I'll take you home.

And I'll be back.

Let's prepare for the glider chamber.

Look, Robby, you know
I never like to lie.

But as soon as we get down there,
you tell them...

...we were already over the horizon
before he finished saying that.

Only a rational being is capable of
deliberate deceit.

-Boy, mothers sure make a fuss.
-Yeah, ha, ha.

-Hello, Dr. Bannerman.
-Hello.

-How is he?
-Oh, he's just fine.

How are all your patients doing?

All the gentlemen are out of surgery
and getting back to their right senses.

Prognosis favorable.
-Good.

Come along, son.

I want you to see what a man does...

...when he finds out he's made
a mistake in his work.

Is it asleep?

No, it knows we're here
and what we're going to do.

I wonder what evil thing
it's planning to do now.

Come on.

Wait!

Listen for a single moment.

Are you a scientist or a child,
Merrinoe?

What right have you
to make this arbitrary decision?

I can still answer any question
which your mind is able to devise.

I am an instrument of knowledge.

I am experiment.

Listen. I will lead you out
to the planets.

I will show you
the furthest reaches of the galaxy.

I will show you the stars.

If only you will serve and obey me.

Come, scientist.
Let us reason together.

-Dad. Daddy...
-Be quiet, son.

Be quiet.

Just look at the pretty lights.

Come in, robot. Come in.

They are helpless.
Crush them. Strike them down.

I have made a new plan,
better than the first.

You will go underground, robot.

You will tunnel into the bank vaults
for the combination.

Secretly, you will make
new human servants, at my need.

Then I will seek out organic life
wherever it may exist...

...down even to the littlest virus
which in time might evolve mentality.

So at last, all the universe
will be cleansed.

All will be sterile.

All will be myself.

Robot! Robot! Robot!

You're actually going to
rebuild that contraption?

Yeah. I gotta learn
all about everything.

Then when I get older,
I'm gonna come into work with you.

Learning things is a lot of
hard work, Tim.

Takes lots of discipline.

Oh, yes, discipline.

If I remember accurately,
when you were up in space...

...I promised I'd do a certain thing
if you did a certain thing.

And you did it.

- Fair?
- I guess so.

No complaints.

No, well, hurry up and get it over with,
will you?

Pardon me, sir. My basic directive.

Have an apple, Timmie.

Robby.

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